


Lay Down and Wake Up in Slowtown

by mccafejeffery



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Brendon the Frank Sinatra fanboy, Josh is done with everyone's crap, M/M, Mutants, Rivalry, Telekinesis, Top Tyler, Torture, Tyler is pretty cool, Tyler tops no matter what, waterparks is here for some reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mccafejeffery/pseuds/mccafejeffery
Summary: Joshua Dun discovers a world of fear and outrage over the newly found powers he possess. A neon green band is slapped over his wrist and added to a database of thousands of other teenagers, waiting to be shipped off to one of serval Research Centers for the mutant teens, or Advanced as they're referred to as.Before he can be shipped off, he plans his escape from the government and goes off the grid. Then, he finds a small group of rebellious teens just like him, marked with neon green, hiding in a run down Research Center.





	1. This Is Not What I Had Planned (Or Wanted)

His breath was shaky, coming in short and unsatisfactory to his lungs. He was gasping, begging to take a successful deep breath. His back was arched forward, inches from the faux leather seat. Exposed knees from his ripped jeans were bouncing uncontrollably. At this rate, he probably had ran a marathon. His mother's soft breath was pounding in his eardrums, the tap of feet and the clicking of tongues was too much. Everytime the wooden door in the corner opened, he jumped. 

His mother sighed, her soft hand rubbing circles in the small of his back. Their eyes met. His mother's eyes darted from child to child, taking in their abnormalities: such as the girl was wavy curles and glowing eyes. Or the boy in front of them, who's eyes would roll back into his head every so often and then recite a small thing that happened a handful of minutes later.

"You'll be fine, honey. A doctor's just going to make sure you're alright." There was an unusual poisonous edge to his mother's usually soft and warm voice. Tension poured around her. Josh sucked in a small breath of air, shaking. 

For what last night's incident held, his mother was unusually calm. He was doing the dishes, humming a Death Cab For A Cutie song under his breath. Soap suds trailed up to his elbow, soaking the edges of his sweater. He took the torn sponge in hand, soap and water flowing out as he bunched up the middle. Scrubbing the last pot, he tapped his bare foot to the beat of the song. He began to jump on the balls of his feet, moving off of the tile more and more with every jump. With bent knees, his weight collided with the earthy colored tile. In a spray of glass, bowl fell from the edge of countertop. A gasp fell from Josh's lips in a second of panic. He let go of the sponge, turning to head to the linen closet. Then a terrified yell ripped through the first floor of the Dun household. Heavy footsteps came pattering through the doorframe. Josh's parents stood planted to the flooring with wide eyes and dropped jaws, eyes glued to the array of floated objects above the sink. China, spoons, butter knives, and the sponge were levitating behind Josh. 

Now, he was seated in an Advanced Adolescent Clinic waiting to be taken back for evaluation. Another several minutes passed of his mother attempting to calm his over acting nerves and those said nerves not complying.

"Joshua Dun?" A middle aged woman in floral scrubs came through the door, a thin smile on her face. 

"Go on, Josh. I'll be right here." His mother cooed, sharing a similar smile as the nurse.

With shaking limbs, he rose from the squeaking seat. Thankfully for his nerves, not many eyes looked at him as he made the journey to the open door. The nurse guided him to the hall concealed by the closed door.

"We're going to room five" The nurse said, a hand firmly pressing on Josh's back. As they walked deeper into the Clinic, the lights became dimmer. Nurses were ushering kids around, some with neon green bracelets around their left wrists. 

He was led to a room with an open door with a red number five nailed to the front. The nurse reached her arm around Josh and turned on florescent overhead light with a muted click. The room looked like every other doctor's office he'd ever been to. The room was painted a light netural cream. The tile below their feet was an array of speckled earth tones. There was a small cart with a needle and syringe, a clipboard containing a thick stack of papers, and a thick neon green band like he saw others wearing. There was a small desk in the right corner and a padded examination table on the left wall, behind the cart.

"Have a seat, Joshua. Doctor will be with you shortly." The nurse left with a bang of the door shutting. 

Josh pulled himself up on the table, Jean clad legs hanging of the side, swinging. 

Within five minutes, a younger looking woman gracefully opened the door with a blank expression. She went to the cart and bent down, pulling a tissue box like container and pulled blue, latex gloves on to her bony hands. She then flicked through the sheets of paper attached to the clipboard.

"Your report says that you have telekinesis." With a click of her tongue she spoke, "that's very powerful." Grabbing the syringe, she stood closely to Josh, rolling up his sweatshirt. "Just stay still I'm just taking blood."

Josh's muscles tensed as he felt his skin being pierced, he whimpered. Soon, the event ended and the doctor set the blood sample back on the cart, a dull thud of plastic on metal sounding. 

"Telekinesis is very difficult to control. Usually it happens when you feel an extreme of an emotion. You need to keep the under control until Collection. You can destroy cities with the snap of your finger. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but taking you to a Research Center will keep you and the public safe." Cool metal jolted through his skin in a shiver as the bracelet was snapped on to his wrist. "This will be activated when you're checking in at the Research Center. For now, it'll keep you out of places that you can cause trouble. Like school, the drug store and restaurants. Just safety precautions."

Josh choked back hot tears. He was going to hell on Earth.


	2. But Will They Be Alive Tomorrow?

Josh woke up with puffy eyes and drained tear ducts. He rolled over onto his back with a grunt, eyes scanning the familiar smooth, white, ceiling. He sighed, a lose, brown curl hanging in his line of sight. Bones cracked and joints awoken by Josh sitting up. The digital clock blared a constant pulse of noise. With one swift movement, Josh pressed the closest button to him, the alarm stopping. In red, bold numbers, seven o'clock was displayed. He would have one hour to get ready, possibly rush to get his algebra homework finished. But now he was not permitted to attend his highschool classes anymore. No more marching band and mediocre rectangle pizza. He might actually miss the pizza. 

His heart sunk, plummetting to the bottom of his ribcage. Thumping echoed in the depths of his ears. He'll never get to drum again. The comfort of the deep vibrations of the kick drum would be no more. Splintering drum sticks and wood shaves coating his lap would be distant, drowned out by constant lab tests and regulated diets. He would be stripped of the option to dye his curled head of hair every hue under the sun. The days of highlighter yellow and deep grass green fluff would be over. The sting of bleach in his nostrils and tin foil wrapped up on his head would be only a sacred memory. He would be surrounded by lab coats and broken faces in a few days. 

Dragging his limbs out of tangled sheets, he stood and pulled off his old t-shirt, throwing into the heap by his closet. Jumping out of his solid pajama pants, he hopped on one foot, keeping his balance. The timid boy threw on an old middle school t-shirt and a pair of washed out jeans. Grabbing a green sweatshirt, he bit his lip. 

He could make a run for it. Attempt to get out of this situation. 

Hands moved quickly, sifting through outgrown clothing, missing homework, and other junk, he found an old, torn backpack. It was a plain, rusty red color. There was an inch long, jagged tear in the front pocket. Josh recalls the time in seventh grade when he got caught on a short tree limb. 

He ran across his room, stuffing clean underwear and jeans and a shirt into the large backpack. He carefully took his old stuffed bear from its place on his cluttered nightstand and set it on top of the small clump of clothing inside the bag. From their mounted hooks on the wall, he took a pair of drumsticks. After setting down the nearly full backpack, he took two fuzzy, mismatched socks from his carpet and pulled them on his feet. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and hurried down the steps. His dad was at work and his mother was probably still in the shower. 

He ventured into the kitchen, grabbing three water bottles from the package in the fridge that he would get in his lunch, and stuffed them into the side pockets of his bag. Continuing to the cupboard, he pulled out a handful of energy bars, fruit snacks, a poptart, trail mix, and a small bag of mixed nuts, and added the items to his bag. 

A pad of sticky notes sat lonesome on the island. He grabbed a pen from the junk drawer and scribbled down a goodbye: explaining that he was terrified and had to escape before Advancement Control arrived.

After pulling on his sneakers and sweatshirt he stepped out onto the concrete steps in front of his now past home, teary eyed. In a quicked walk, he hurried down the pavement, passing his neighbors, not forgetting to wave and smile to the older couple gardening across the street. 

Turning left onto the sidewalk leading towards downtown, Joshua stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket, concealing the neon green band marking him as dangerous. Busses zoomed their way past the lone boy, shadows of chatting students taunting him.

Joshua Dun was starting new, fresh. A life driven by fear and power. Telekinesis coursing through his veins. 

He was still human. He still bled crimson and felt emotions, reacting and following his own drive. He was just part of the couple thousand kids that would become the next evolution of humanity. But for now, he was feared. He wasn't quite sure how to cope with that though. So he continued to walk, and walk. Stuck inside his mind. 

For now he could only hope that he was strong enough to push through and make it out alive.


	3. My "Friends" And I Got A Lot Of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or alternatively, "An Introduction To The Slowtown Crew"

With a jolt, Josh woke up to a blaring noise. Pain rocketed through his body as chilly concrete met his exposed skin. His back throbbed in pulsing pain. With a soft grunt, he sat himself up with his hands behind him. Looking straight ahead, golden light stabbing at his eyeballs. Blinking away the water in his tear ducts, Josh stood up, brushing away small pebles and dead plants. A grocery store stood on the sidewalk. That must have been where the noise and light was coming from. The only other light cascading on this street was dim blinking buld from steel lamps. 

What was going on?

Josh grabbed his stuffed bear, Jim, from the concrete and brushed it off, sitting back on the bench in his own little corner of the night. He rolled up his sleeve, the green band practically glowing in the dark atmosphere. Ice pulled a blanket over the boy. An uncontrollable shiver ran down his spine as he reached for a half empty water bottle.

The pounding of feet and shouting grew close. Josh grabbed his backpack and stood up, the back of his knees against the metal. His breath quicken. Dark silhouettes blocked portions of the golden light, green florescent light replacing it. 

Whatever was happening, Advanced teens were involved. 

The figures we're running, nearing Josh's spot. Laughter flowed from their lips as gruff shouting followed them. 

As the figures began to gain color, the lone boy noticed that there were three of them. All boys. One was shoter than the others and carried what looked to be a pillow case stuffed with boxed and canned food. Another stood with his shoulders back, head held high, a metal bat in his hands. The one in the middle was empty handed, laughing loudly.

As they jogged closer, the boy in the middle smirked at the sight of Josh's bracelet. Stepping in front of the others, the boy grabbed Josh's bond hand in a tight grip. His fingers were rough, calloused. Quickly, as the shouting and sirens drew closer, the unknown Advanced looked to the boy with the pillow case, "We'll meet you back home." The boy said.

In a flash of blinding, lightning blue light, the kid was gone. Seemingly only a second had passed. "Keep a hold on my hand." The boy other said, metal bat boy, grabbing onto the boy's wrist. Then, the world was covered in a paper thin, silver veil. Every object except for the boys themselves were outlined in the same silver color. "On three, we run like hell. Keep contact with my skin." The boy with the grip on Josh's hand whispered. Josh opened his mouth to speak but the two other's began running. Josh grunted, his arms strained. "I thought you said 'on three'!" Josh yelled, huffing for an anger filled breath. "Change of plans!" The boy with the metal bat yelled back, not bothering to make eye contact. Their feet pounded on the concrete, Josh having to use his free hand to hold his backpack on himself. The sirens and shouting grew distant, only leaving a ringing in Josh's ears. He could feel his heart pounding in the front of his ribcage. They slowed down to a walk, the boy with the metal bat letting go of the other boy's hand. He turned into a silver outline, clouded by the same color veil. The other boy not in the veil chuckled, "You can let go now, bubblegum." Instantly, Josh pulled his hand back. The veil over the world lifted, everything back to a moon lit state. Subconsciously, Josh patted the candy colored curls resting on his head. "Brendon, we need to keep walking." The metal holding boy grumbled, starting to walk again. The other boy- Brendon, smirked and followed his counterpart's lead. "You coming, bubblegum?" "Uh yeah." Josh pulled his backpack up on both shoulders, taking a handful of steps to catch up to the two others. "What were you doing out there? Control could've got your ass." Brendon asked, hands tucked into his pockets. Josh bit his lip, but then replied, "Running away. What did you do back there?" Josh kept behind the two, hands shaking. "I turn invisible. That's my Advancement. I can turn others invisible too if I make skin to skin context with them." Josh only nodded. "So," Brendon drew out the word, "what's yours?" "Telekinesis." He stated simply. The unnamed boy turned back to Josh. "We're almost there, I think Tyler would want to meet you."


	4. I Wanna Be Apart Of Slowtown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or alternatively, "A Better Introduction To The Slowtown Crew... Well Just Kinda Tyler. There's Going To Be A Lot More Introductions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been a while. I got a laptop, I apologize for any mistakes, I'm getting used to it. I'll try to update more often, but for now, enjoy!

The two boys led Josh to a clearing deep in the woods. The midnight air was crisp, laced with earth and rotting bark and wood. Moonlight dusted freckles onto the faces of the teens. The specks of light danced on Brendon's skin, the darkness cutting his jaw. The other, taller boy was merely a silhouette in the blanket of night. Josh staggered behind, knuckles white around the rough strap of his backpack. 

Josh stopped when he saw the white paneled building. 

It held the appearance of a small, run down warehouse. Parts of the flat roof had flew off, scattered across the clearing. Josh had tripped over a stray piece earlier. The sharp untamed grass bit at his exposed ankles. The thickest and tallest of the grass was around the building itself, a deep green. Concrete was the base of it. Josh eyed the filthy, grimy, yellowed window on it. It peeked through artificial and organic matter, a weak light cutting through the dark. Close to the window was another slab of gray concrete, a metal door siting above it. The moonlight bounced off of its surface, glinting. 

"You comin' bubblegum?" Brendon called out, hand cupped around his mouth. Him and the other boy were already at the door. Josh bowed his head and picked up his pace to a light jog. When the candy colored boy met his leaders at the door, the boy with the bat lifted a plastic cover next to the door. With soft clicks and muted beeping, he used his pointer finger to quickly press in a code. A metallic clank, the door slowly swung open. Light flooded Josh's senses, deeming his sight for a few seconds. 

"Welcome to mother fuckin' Slowtown." The unnamed boy said almost monotonously, pushing out a stiff chuckle. He crossed his rangy arms over this straight, stiff frame, boot garbed foot taping on the muddied tile. Dry, flaking stamps of mud were laid thick around the small portion of tile. Three doormats sat against the wall right below Josh's head. Several pairs of combat boots (a few Josh could tell were metal soled.) and worn down, frayed sneakers.

Brendon and his seeming superior, tied and pulled of their boots on one foot. Brendon's insinuated to be more light weight, not heavy soled, new even. The stranger's boots were much heavier looking, obviously made for combat and running. They were scuffed and weathered. Part of the faux leather was torn ing an edged circle, only a creamy colored mesh in its place. Josh implied they were metal soled.

What was with this guy and metal? 

"Take off your shoes or 'Trick will have your head." The put together, tree of a boy said, neatly placing his boots next to the others of the same style. Brendon did the same.

Josh bent his knees and untied his sneakers. Hopping on one foot he, pulled the left shoe off, back landing against the door. Brendon and his buddy snickered. Biting his lip, Josh slid down the wall. Now sitting, he removed the next shoe to complete the pair. Then he pulled off his socks. 

At raised eyebrows, Josh muttered, "I hate socks."

After putting up his shoes and stuffing his lint covered socks into his hoodie pocket, his two guides lead him down the corridor. 

Josh observed something small about the differences between the two. Brendon put much less into his appearance than the other. Brendon's raven hair was matted down with sweat and sticking up. He wore a loose AC/DC shirt that had a significant sized hole near the hem. His socks were a strange mess of color. The left was a checkered pattern of green and blue. The right sock was an obnoxious shade of hilighter pink. His counterpart was very well put together.His soft colored hair was slicked back using a heavy amount of gel. His socks were a matching shade of grey, and his dark grey vest was free of lint, and his stark white shirt underneath was stainless. But what bothered Josh the most was the fact that he was still carrying his bat. 

"Oh I'm Brendon. The walking tree is Dallon. So, what's ya name?" Brendon asked boldly, looking over his shoulder, brown marbles glittering with interest. Dallon fitted his appearance perfectly.

"Josh." 

"Tyler's probably in his office. We'll drop you off there. And you don't have to knock." Dallon said as he adjusted his shoulders back.

"Is Tyler an adult?" Josh didn't seem to have much faith in adults anymore.

"Hell no!" Dallon roared, "None of us trust those sons of bitches anymore. He's like us. We're all fifteen- sixteen here."

Dallon and Brendon stopped Josh in front of matte red door, and then walked off.

Josh gulped as they vanished around the corner in a fit of laughter.

Josh entered with the swing of the door. Lavender meet his nostrils, he breathed in the calming smell. The floral scent coated his rapid beating heart in a sense of comfort, be brought back to times in the park with his parents. A smile tugged at his soul. Warmth ran through him, hazy. Hazy like humid nights at a drive in theatre. 

He liked this room, even though it was small and dim.

The plush earth toned carpet padded his bare feet. His bright eyes trailed to the cream trim and the pale red paint smooth on the walls. The wall to his left was covered in books. A deep red accent chair in the corner. On the other side was a small, back metal dest with a matching chair. Facing the wall was a boy of skin and bones. He turned.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in. Sorry. I'm Tyler. Lavender calms me down." His voice was a little choppy, but cheerful.

His head was rid of hair, only a ghost of brown showing. He had a stick straight frame and wiry arms. He was kissed by the sun in a tanned olive tone. His fitted long sleeved shirt was a solid blue, a small, tree shaped patched resting on his collar bone. 

Josh then caught eye of the inky black coating his hands. Right below his palm, Josh could see a rise. It was a strange scar. Coated his veins and fingernails, they were practically invisible. 

Josh's bones went cold.

Tyler raised his hands, turning his palm over. "These you can thank the Centers for." He choked out a laugh. 

Josh only nodded, he breathed in the lavender again. Tyler smiled.

"Frank told me that you'd becoming. It's nice to meet you." He stepped out from around his desk, wiggling his un guarded toes. He stretched out a blackened hand. 

Josh completed the gesture quickly. His skin was warm like the room they stood in. His presence was like the sun.

"I'm Josh."

Tyler held his hands in front of him, playing with his coated fingers. "What Center did you come from?"

"I ran before they could get me."

"You're a lucky one, J"

Josh melted into a smile. "I figured."

"You seem to like this room. I do too. It's not really an office like they say- well it was. Now it's more of a library. It was like this when we found it."

"It's beautiful." The candy boy scanned the room again. 

"Welcome to Slowtown. Some may call it heaven."

"I think I'm going to like it here." Josh shared a diamond smile with Tyler.


	5. Do You Have The Time To Listen To Me Whine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or alternatively, "Josh's First Morning In Slowtown. Featuring Patrick Being Angry™."

Josh awoke from his first night at Slowtown. The bed he turned over in cradled his bones and muscles, his body on cloud nine. His room was located next to Brendon's. Last night, Josh fell asleep to brass beats and smooth baritones of Frank Sinatra's "Fly Me To The Moon". The static of a vintage record player coated the baby blue walls in serenity.

His room was plain in that moment. Left in its original state. The carpet was not plush, but rough and stained. Dark spots littered the surface below him. Most of the stains were tinged a bile green. He knew that this sanctuary was worn down and forgotten before Tyler and his band of misfit teens came. But he still had to wonder what this place was before it was a beacon of pure hope. The walls were painted in a sky like, pale blue. It was a freeing color. Much like the days before glowing greens, and dark clouds of fear hanging over him. All the wood around him was stained a dark oak color. The trim sharing the same hue. His small twin sized mattress was held on a silvery, flimsy frame without a headboard or backboard. He was given lilac perfumed, deep ocean blue sheets to dress his new bed. Two pillows leaned against the bare right wall, showing their yellowed edges. They were flattened, but Josh was still content with their comfort. An empty bookshelf made of dark wood stood opposite of his new bed. It was barren, dust snowing down on it's empty shelves. 

Josh sat up, his toned arms straight behind him. Bobbing his head, he scanned the bed for his stuffed bear, finding the soft object on the carpet below. Without moving from his bed, he reached for the bear, grabbing it with two fingers. With the sound of jumping, small beads, Josh plopped his bear down on his bed, beside him. He swung his legs over the bed, standing on his feet. He walked to the door.

The hallway was abandoned, but brightly lit. Hung up by a single yellow thumbtack, was a large piece of crinkled poster board. Josh stepped closer. It was a chore chart. Josh snorted.

They had this place organized. 

In red pen was a list of names in neat capitalized writing. Above the list was each day of the week in the same capital font. There were nine names, including his: Tyler, Brendon, Dallon, Ryan, Frank, Gerard, Pete, Patrick, and his, Josh. Under the days were different tasks. Each day seemed to have a teen assigned to it. Josh frowned as he saw that today, Tuesday, he was with whoever Patrick was cleaning the kitchen. He wanted to get to know Tyler more. He seemed the most welcoming. 

Josh's hairs stood up on his neck as a bang traveled down the hallway.

A boy with a goofy smile ran down the hallway, wielding two small frying pans. He was drowning in the dark fabric of a Metallica t-shirt, the material almost fulling covering his blue boxers. His dark puff off hair was pilled up on his head. Loose curls sticking straight up to the ceiling. 

"Wake up bitches!" He screamed, the gripped in his hands banging together over his head, the tinny bang coming in full force. 

Josh held in a roar of a laugh.

A door a few yards down, was slammed open, bouncing off the wall.

A shorter, pale, strawberry blond stomped into the hallway in his plain shirt and plaid green pajama pants. Quickly, he rubbed his eyes and put on his thick rimmed glasses. With balled up fists, he raised his arms up a little. "Shut the fucking hell up!" He roared. His mighty voice ran down the hallway, causing more doors to open and squeak. "This is last last time you do this! I'm sick and tired of you're cute ass waking me up at seven!"

Snickers came from behind Josh. He turned his head to see Brendon on his knees, arms wrapped around himself, attempting to keep his humor quiet. 

The bickering between the blond and the boy with the pans continued. The lights flickered in sharp flashes of white light. Brendon stood to a stance of stiff alert. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled, "Code Yellow!" 

Doors closed, muted by the hollering down the hall. The boy with the pans ran past Josh, pushing him while clanging them together. Josh was slammed ribcage first into the wall, a sluggish pain in the small of his back throbbing.

As Josh blinked away the pain, his world turned black with a groan of machinery.

"Peter Lewis, I will have your head!" The blond boy ran closer to Josh's section of the hall. Blue glowing golden sparks zoomed passed Josh's ears with a sizzling scream.

"Someone get the gloves!" The boy being chased choked out in a scream between panting breaths. 

After ten minutes of wide eyed fear and jagged breathing, the lights popped back on. Josh sighed in relief. 

Brendon walked back out, calmly. "Sorry about Pete and Patrick. That happens a lot."

"I don't mind. It was kinda entertaining."


	6. Kitchen Conversations (Featuring Patrick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or alternatively, "A Small Expansion On Josh's First Day."

After the lights came back their bright, fluorescent state, Josh found himself sat upon a kitchen counter, limbs over the cheap glass, rocking back and forth like a toddler. The kitchen was no bigger than his new room, maybe even smaller. Fingerprinted steel lined the walls in boxes. The oven was cold and empty, a small fridge humming next to him, humming in a deep tone. The red dusted sink was piled with dirtied dishes, pans, and cracked and dented, plastic tupperware. Remnants of slimly mush and chunks of brown coated the dirty dishes. The plastic trashcan with the partly torn off label, was stuffed with stained plates and spilt red solo cups. The walls peaking through the many mounted light wooden cupboards and shelves were a creamy flaking brown. The black and white checkered tile was scuffed a chipped. Several whole tiles were missing. 

Before this moment, Josh had learned that Patrick and Pete were a thing. According to Brendon, there was foam on the walls of their rooms to keep things quiet at night. Also according to Mr. Sinatra Fanboy, Pete screamed his partners name to the world then. Josh also learned that Brendon was not always the most trustworthy source, and that Patrick's Advancement was electrokinesis. Patrick had complete control on electric currents. He was a living natural disaster.

Josh imagined Patrick a modern Zeus: stood upon a raincloud raining chaos down on the earth below, with greedy, golden eyes. It was a strange, weighing thought. His shook the shivers rocketed down his spine off. He pushed himself off of the counter, standing barefoot on the uneven tiles. He rolled up the maroon sleeves of the sweater he was given by Dallin. The woven threads cradled his toned frame. The threads ended towards the middle of his thighs. Dallon was all lanky limbs and bones. Josh was built athletic with toned arms with muscles a veins showing. Though the differences were more than small observations, the garment fit fine and was comfortable. He was grateful for the kind gesture even if it came from Dallon's cold and rock hard exterior. 

Shaking the boy out of his thoughts, chunky, squeaking bright yellow rubber gloves came into view. 

With a warm smile, Patrick spoke, "Josh, right?"

Josh returned with a quick nod.

"Patrick. I'm what you might call the 'mom friend'. Brendon calls me mom a lot. I'm also the only one with enough knowledge of the human body to save you from a bullet hole."

Brutally honest, Josh would have to remember that detail. Patrick's voice was deeper than expected. Deep but still smooth, like river rocks. Then an invisible bullet of realization hit Josh between the eyes.

"What- what? There's a chance I'm gonna get shot!" His eyes word wide.

Leading with his left bare foot, Patrick turned to the mountain of dishes, his body relaxed. Patrick hummed, "I would say it's a thirty to fifty percent chance if you're goin' to patrol. Other Insiders are usually not this inviting.

The new member of Slowtown cocked an eyebrow, "'Insiders'?'

The blond nodded, "It's what we call clans of Advanced. 'Cause we usually keep to ourselves," he paused turning on the sink with a small flick of his wrist. He then picked up a sauce pan splattered in dried flecks in red. He picked up a clean sponge and began to scrub the sauce away, "Most of us have our own sets of beliefs. Most use more force than us. Others... are...odd."

Patrick seemed to enjoy sharing narrowed down information, he took note of that too. Soon after the small thought, Josh nodded, knowing full well that the other was too preoccupied to notice the movement from behind. 

"Guys, the Waterparks guys are here!" Pete announced, making Patrick jump an inch from the tiled floor. 

A screech followed Pete's words. A purple haired boy carried a boy with frizzy hair and a nose ring on his back. Another boy wearing a beanie followed the two. Pushing his arms in front of him, beanie boy sent the two others down on the tile behind Pete in a mountain of limbs and laughter.

"Waterparks, meet Josh, the newest member of Slowtown." Pete spoke with a chuckle.

"That," Patrick pointed to the heap of tangled limbs, "is what I meant by odd."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That sucked I'm sorry. I hoped you enjoyed though.


End file.
